Truth Through a Storm
by DenizenofTwilight
Summary: Claves wasn't exactly happy to get the assignment to spy on Jazz, but it's one she thought she could handle. However, just within meeting Jazz, he's severely injured and it's up to Claves to save him. Through it all, Claves starts to question things, and just who she really is. With Jazz by her side, she thinks she might finally unlock what she's wanted all along: her true self.


**Truth Through a Storm**

Claves would remember very far in the future that it hadn't taken long for her resolve to waver. No. The day she met Jazz, she began questioning her mission and just what she was doing. Because on that first day they'd met… he'd been dying from the mineral powder.

…

It was a surprisingly hot day around Mt. Rock the day Claves was dispatched there. Being very accustomed to Forte's weather, the pinkette didn't know exactly what to make of everything in the foreign place.

Sitting down on a bench outside, Claves had a map in her hand and a thing of soup in the other. Almost unconsciously, she'd bounce the spoon in her mouth to a jazzy rhythm. It made sense, of course; she was meant to meet someone named Jazz and join his circle for her country. The problem was that Claves had no idea just where Jazz was at. The map she'd been given was truly a bother, but maybe she should have expected that from someone as… eccentric as Count Waltz.

Sighing to herself, Claves got up and began walking north. Maybe, just maybe, since compasses never led anyone wrong, going north would eventually lead her right to Jazz. Throwing away her spoon and delicious chicken noodles in a garbage dispenser, Claves dusted her hands on her knees and began looking for any landmarks that would lead her right. As she'd studied and memorized this map many times, she didn't even need it anymore. As such, she supposed she really could have just thrown it away. At such a thought, Claves was surprised to find herself laughing, as she remembered how Serenade hated for people to be wasteful.

Then, placing a hand to her chin, Claves had to wonder just what Count Waltz had been thinking in making Serenade a spy for Forte. Knowing her, she'd probably wilt at the slightest hint of aggression. Being a spy towards Crescendo would have been much easier for Claves; rather indignantly, she had to wonder why she'd been given the assignment of Jazz. Surely it would have been better the other way around.

"What did ya say there, missy?" To the best of her knowledge, Claves hadn't spoken aloud, so when an elderly man began approaching her as if she had, she was more than a little surprised. However confused as she was, she was more than a little happy to be approached by this person. For one thing, he seemed to need things repeated, too. Claves laughed slightly at the thought of that; they seemed to be birds of a feather that way.

But mostly she was cheered that an older man—that had to be wise for his years—had come to her. Maybe it was a sign. Maybe he could help her? And just maybe he actually believed her a member of Adantino! The last thought was such that it had Claves about jumping into the air in glee.

In an attempt to calm herself down, Claves cleared her throat whilst making sure her sword was on hand (just in case she needed it). Then, she turned her full attention to the balding, tanned man in front of her. "Nice to meet you," she said. "My name is Claves. I was wondering if you could tell me where I might find someone named Jazz?"

"As luck would have it, he's standing right behind you." Laughing a bit awkwardly, Claves turned around at the inclusion of a new voice in the conversation. Proving that fate was an ironic thing indeed, Claves recognized instantly that the man in the photo she'd been given was the man in front of her now.

As her pink hair spilled over her shoulder at her slight movement, Claves had to resist the urge to pat the annoying locks away. She was meeting the leader of Adantino. She wanted to look tough and unmovable, but, as always, her hair had to ruin everything for her. No one would take her seriously now! Perhaps she should have worn her hair up?

"Oh, Mister. Jazz. So good to see you! I was just going to take a bit of mineral powder for my aching ribs. Would you like some for that wound of yours?"

"No, Bass. That is dreadful stuff. If you knew any better, you wouldn't take it."

As those words left Jazz's mouth, Claves felt her fists clench of their own free will. She was just so…so angry! Didn't he realize how kind Count Waltz was to give the amazing substance to his subjects for no charge at all? Clearly things were even worse than she'd originally thought, because if people really thought this of Count Waltz… there would surely be war on the horizon in a fortnight. She had been sent to Mt. Rock to stop such a thing, so precision was clearly the key here. She just needed to get her words right, and-

"Mister. Jazz-"

Whatever Claves was about to say was instantly forgotten, when the brunette in front of her fell to his knees in a grunt of pain. Claves couldn't help thinking the whole thing was curious, but mostly because his fingers were drumming over a gruesome wound on his side for whatever reason? Also, blood seemed to coat Jazz's fingers in such a way that there barely seemed to be any other color there but red. Horrified, and trying to hold back her lunch, Claves thought she might have realized just why Jazz's fingers were moving along his wound. Was he- was he trying to sew himself up?

Dropping to her own knees now, Claves ripped part of her outfit off, and was quick to begin dabbing it against Jazz's side. Towing him to his feet, Claves kept an arm wrapped around Jazz's shoulders, and she began looking for some place to lead him to for safe lodging. "Are there any places I can take him for care around here?"

As luck would have it, there was such an area. On the bad side of things, though, it was quite a ways away. Even worse was the fact that it seemed to be partly up the mountain. There was no way Claves could make it up there with this moron as hurt as he was, so maybe... maybe she could go bring help back?

Or maybe… maybe he was just the most stubborn fool she'd ever met! _Why_ weren't they using the mineral powder again?

"Sir, can I borrow your mineral powder?" Not waiting for any consent from the man dubbed "Bass", Claves quickly grabbed the bottle out of his hands. Then, wrenching it open, she tried to guide Jazz's mouth open so she could administer the medicine into him. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately, as she'd later realize), Jazz had fallen unconscious, and Claves didn't exactly favor the idea of trying to force a passed out person to drink. Despite how extensive her sword training had been, she hadn't the slightest idea how to deal with situations like this, and-.

"Miss, there's-"

"What?" Claves spluttered, as Jazz seemed to wake up with a vengeance in her arms. Trying desperately to get him to stay stationary like he needed to as he fought her (and to ferret out whatever he meant to say), it was all Claves could do to keep from ripping her hair out in frustration. She had not signed up for this at all. What could she even do now?

"There's a key in my pocket. Use it and it'll teleport you to the top of Mt. Rock. Once there, go to the healers stationed there and bring hel-"

Biting her lip a bit guiltily, Claves almost wondered if Jazz had been about to tell her to bring hell onto him. After all, she'd had no idea Jazz had such a useful device to his disposal. And now that she knew, she had to tell Count Waltz! If she didn't send a message to Forte right now, she knew she might as well kiss her entire career goodbye. But… but if she didn't act now, Jazz was going to die. Well, what Count Waltz didn't know wouldn't hurt anyone, Claves supposed. And her first mission _was_ about Jazz, so...

Being careful to retrieve the key out of the pocket on Jazz's pant leg, Claves had to curse her rotten luck that the thing she needed was right where Jazz's wound was at its worst. In fact, he woke up again for a brief moment to hiss in pain when Claves' fingers slightly upset the cut.

Apologizing profusely, Claves tried to hush Jazz and urge him back to sleep (and to urge the few people around them to calm down), but... deep down, she wondered if maybe this was the best solution. What if she just allowed him to die, and ended things there? It was a terrible idea, truly, but… in truth, as everything seemed to spiral out of control around her more and more, Claves felt very much like a drowning child. Something she hadn't felt for a long, long time. Not that her family had ever noticed-

Finally, just when she was about to leave the situation to someone else, Claves got a good grip on the mentioned key and held it to her heart. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to do with it, and nor was she cruel enough to wake Jazz and find out. Instead, she wished with all her might that she'd be able to help Jazz, and be taken slightly up Mt. Rock.

The moment she heard noisy voices, and different sounds in each direction, Claves knew her endeavor had worked. Sprinting around the clinic once she got her bearings, Claves began heading in the direction of the nurse in charge. And fortunately for her and Jazz both, she found the person in a very timely fashion.

Fighting the urge to lean over with her hands on her knees to catch her breath, Claves threw back her annoying, sweaty hair from her face, and shook the woman before her's arm desperately. Clutching the key to her tightly (she didn't want to lose it in the craziness), Claves related to the brunette woman in front of her, "There's a man dying just below Mt. Rock. You must help him. I can take you to him right awa-"

"Sweetie," the aged woman ended up interrupting Claves with a polite, patient voice that made the pinkette just want to throw her hands up in the air incredulously, "There are many people in need of assistance here. If you'll just wait and sign in with your nee-"

"Will any of the others die soon?!" Claves challenged, as she walked past a blond woman and her family who had strolled in front of her, and blanched at the thick smell of vanilla perfume that permeated the air. Thankfully, the guilty and reluctant look on the brunette woman's face was all that Claves needed. Pressing on, she took the woman's other arm in her own and pleaded desperately, "Please help. You made an oath to."

And having struck some chord with the older woman, she finally consented to go with Claves, after she gave some orders to her intern. As anticipation ignited within her, Claves nearly dropped the key in her eagerness when the nurse was ready, but fortunately she didn't. Fortunately, she made it back to Jazz just in time. She had no idea why she cared so much about his well-being, but soon she would. And soon it would change everything.

…

Perhaps just for being in her element, the nurse reacted much better to the situation than Claves did upon returning. Noting the affliction Jazz was suffering and just what needed to be done, the brunette quickly began to elevate Jazz's leg on Bass' bed, and then she set to work.

Upon doing more than her share of duty by getting the healer to Jazz, and showing her to him, Claves found herself falling into an armchair by the side of the bed like a puppet with its strings cut off. She had… she had no idea what to say or do now. She hadn't exactly explained her cover story to any of those gathered, and now certainly didn't seem like the time to fabricate one, but it soon seemed that she needed to. Not only was Bass worriedly asking her questions to distract himself from Jazz's condition, but the woman named Swing, it seemed, was beginning to fire questions so she could best diagnose all that had happened to Jazz.

And oddly enough, during the midst of it all, Bass seemed to decide who Claves was all on his own." It seems to me, ma'am, that Jazz was hurt when he got here. He must have known today was the day the mineral powders arrived, and was trying to do me a favor. He's warned me time and time again the side effects it can have, but I'm afraid I never much listened. And if it weren't for this warrior in training here… why, I haven't a clue what might've happened."

To that, Swing nodded her head slowly, as if it all made perfect sense to her, and in a slightly accented voice, she explained that such a thing seemed likely of the sometimes reckless Jazz. She then went onto explain (with her brown hair curling because of the humidity and her having run around), "Yes, you should pay special care to his warning today, Bass. If I know my wounds, this one doesn't seem very natural. I would venture that it was given to him by someone that's been exposed to extreme amounts of mineral powder."

"What?!" Claves exclaimed, as she hastily got up from her chair despite herself (only to lose her sense of balance through exhaustion, and to fall back down again). What Swing was saying made no sense! Her words had to be mistaken; there were absolutely no side effects of mineral powder, as Count Waltz had seen to such a thing. It was why... it was why it was as miraculous as it was. So why, then, did they think someone who'd been taking mineral powder had gone and done this to Jazz? Claves couldn't understand that or her current situation at all.

If there could be one bad thing said about mineral powder, it would have to be that it made people unable to sell things like floral powder. And though that was the reason for the could-be-war, and that was why Claves had been sent to Jazz's side, she still couldn't understand why the death of floral powder would be a bad thing if mineral powder was better. Surely, people could find other things to sel-

"There's no need to fret, dear," Swing said, as she patted Claves on the shoulder, whilst clearly mistaking her intent. As Claves leaned back against the orange wall behind her, she could only sigh in resignation. She needed to stop acting so suspect, she knew, but as tears dotted her eyes, she remembered how she would have died as a child without the substance. Though Clave's inner-turmoil was clear on her face, Swing continued on unperturbed. "There are still plenty of people who don't use it, so you should be safe from the monsters from the time being. However, that could change and soon. Really, though, just be sure not to take it yourself and you should be fine."

Not being able to take it anymore, Claves found herself leaving the room that clashed with her and her beliefs, and headed out into the dark night. How in the world had everything turned upside down with these people? Were people's minds just clouded by paranoia, or…

As Claves sat at the corner of what was beginning to seem an entirely new world to her, she knew she should have been reporting all that she was finding out, but she felt completely immobile. And it didn't feel at all that only a few hours had passed, it felt as though a lifetime had.

In fact, despite the fact that Claves knew she would have to use and betray Jazz, she found herself generally wishing he would be okay. Morally confused or not, he seemed to be a good man. He had to be, really, to trust her with the key he had, and to have sustained such a wound. Furthermore, he'd risked his life to help Bass when he should have been receiving medical help. Though she supposed his actions were very foolish, indeed, they were actions that Claves could fully respect. She made a lot of mistakes at times, but for the ones that were because of the heart—like the one Jazz had made—she knew she could never regret those choices, even if she were to die for them.

"It's so strange," Claves found herself muttering to herself (something she was quite accustomed to doing in times of stress), as she bowed her head, and ignored the pangs of hunger in her stomach. "You… you all seem to think mineral powder treats someone the way magic does one who's terminally ill. But the strangest thing is that… I wished I could use magic just so I could help you today, Jazz."

"Oh, is that so? Then, I have to say I appreciate your help, Claves. Even though you seem to be quite misled."

"Huh?" Whirling around towards the deep voice that could only belong to Jazz, Claves clutched the key that she was holding onto curiously. Idly, she wondered if maybe the strange trinket had taken her words to heart, and had teleported her to a time and place in which Jazz was, indeed, better. Because, really, there was no way he should have been able to be approaching her the way he was now.

So going along with the dream if it was, in fact, that, Claves waited until the stars were glistening on her porcelain skin just so, and looked over at Jazz with one eye peaked open. "I'm glad to see you're doing better, Mister Jazz. But I feel you could use much better flattery than to call me 'misled.'"

"I simply meant you don't believe the ills mineral powder can bring. You're not the first one, either, I'll consent. And I didn't mean you any insult, Miss Claves. Instead, I find I much owe you my gratitude."

Her breath hitching as Jazz's words washed over her, and his hair blew in her face (thus proving he _was_ very much there), Claves was about to fuss over how he should have been in bed resting. In fact, she even found her hand clutching the hilt of her blade to jokingly try and "persuade" Jazz to abide by her. But as her hand fell away from her sword, she found there were many reasons she should just let him stay where he was. The foremost of those, of course, was that she knew showing Jazz her sword would be a bad omen for many reasons.

But more than that, Claves knew that she'd have to start the masquerade with this man soon enough, and for just a moment… she wanted to stay with the kind, gallant hero she'd once believed in, and pretend his actions were as real as her emotions could be if things were different.

So, shrugging nonchalantly, Claves found herself peering at Jazz the way she would one of her more stubborn comrade-in-arms and chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. "It is a beautiful night out, to be sure. And I'm sure Swing will be making you have bed rest for many days, so I suppose I can overlook your one moment of freedom out here. And you really don't owe me anything, Jazz." It was almost too easily that Jazz's name fell off Clave's lips. And when she heard the reverent term she'd somehow used with it, Claves felt worse than she ever had in her life… she also found herself blushing, despite herself.

_I wonder if he knows_ _how much strain I was in under today, but that I also got through it all for him. I- I don't know if I could have done such a thing for Crescendo, but seeing the earnestness in Jazz made this all possible even for me. Perhaps this is for the best, after all_, Claves thought as she quickly grabbed onto Jazz's palm, and fit his hand around the key he'd leant her. In her head, she told herself she was just being a good spy (as if there could ever be such a thing), but in her heart she knew she was giving him the key… because she could never return to this place in the end, and as she was starting to realize just how close to Jazz she would become, she couldn't trust this key to take her to her heart again… when it no longer could

"You're quite competent and strong, Miss Claves. I don't think I've ever met a trainee that's your equal, and thus I know Bass' praise for you can only be right. I hope you will continue to await my teaching until I get better. It might be a while still, but I-"

"Yes, of course," Claves assured Jazz, as she felt his sweaty palm—that was still resting against hers—begin to shake with the unneeded exertion he was undergoing. Feeling a strong bout of déjà vu hit her, Claves was preparing to usher Jazz back to where Swing was undoubtedly waiting for him, but paused when his words caught up with her. The crickets chirped for what seemed like an eternity, and she could almost taste her own surprise in the air, as she tried to digest it all, but…

Claves had… she had never had anyone tell her such things about herself in so many words. And it… it felt good. And it was almost enough for her to want to believe Jazz and his people's strange fairytales about the mineral powder, and to forget that his face even now was undoubtedly just a mask, too. Everyone wore masks, Claves knew, but somehow Jazz and his endearments seemed…so real. As a well-to-do girl, Claves knew well of people's façades, too, and yet-

"I was very lucky to have had you find me today, Claves. I can only hope that I can return the favor to you someday." And as Jazz—deliriously, Claves was sure—ducked his head down, and kissed her on her cheek, as she led him away, it was all she could do from dropping him in shock, and… and begging him to repeat himself.

And at that, Claves found herself laughing outright. Wasn't that what had started her entire day? Realizing Bass needed things repeated, too, and going from there? It was the perfect bookend to her day, Claves found herself thinking, as she finally administered the kindhearted Jazz back into bed. And just for a moment, Claves thought maybe it could be the perfect end to her everyday. Jazz already seemed to be bringing a light and laughter to her life that she'd never known, so wouldn't have been too easy to start such a life with him?

That wasn't in the cards for her, though, was it? And it was best to nip those feelings in the bud now, Claves found herself thinking, as she kissed a sleeping Jazz on his own, sweaty cheek before departing from the room.

Still, even with such thoughts and her sudden resolve plaguing her mind, Claves was able to leave the room with a pep in her step. After all, as she'd left the room, Jazz's eyes opened the tiniest sliver, and reflected light and life towards her once more. And she also found herself smiling at him, and imagining that maybe she could have more than she'd ever hoped. Maybe she was a good person, and it all _could _work out.

Even seeming to hint at this, when Claves returned outside into the hot night air, she could only laugh and laugh and laugh when she saw what Jazz had been drawing on the dirt the entire time they'd talked. Apparently, he had a thing for soup, too. And one way or another, Claves knew she'd found her destiny.

And if Jazz had been able to somehow guess her favorite food and hobby while being sick, maybe she could seen into his soul whilst sick, too. And maybe… maybe things weren't as black and white as she'd once thought. When she became sick someday, or if Jazz ever did save her (which, of course, he would many, many times in their future), Claves promised herself that she would switch over to his side without pause, and she'd give truth a try for change. And for once, she'd even be honest to herself and who she wanted to be.

And then, then she would truly have her happily ever after of life, love, and realism that she'd always wanted, but had never known to ask for before. It was another thing she had Jazz to thank for, and as soon as she was revived in the near future, she would thank and love him everyday for the rest of her life, and for the first time Claves had ever known… he would do the same for her. Together, they would lead a better life than the one they'd led.

**Author's Note: I know Celine (Alacquiene) will never read this, but this was written for her for her birthday last year. I know we've drifted apart and all, but I still really love her, and hope we can cross paths again soon. Love you, Celine. You were like my first fanfiction friend, and you're so amazing and awesome. I hope we can communicate again soon.**

**Also, I originally wrote this right after playing ES, but never looked at it again until now, so if there are a lot of things wrong here now… well, forgive me. It's been a while since I've been around Eternal Sonata, so that's why. I just really wanted to finally post this (even if it is a bit lackluster compared to my current writing). Also, if I remember correctly, I know I changed some things about Crescendo's key and whatnot for this story to work, so forgive that, too.**

**Anyway, Jazz/Claves, everyone. They're an amazing pair, so spread more love around for them, okay?**

**And sorry if the ending sucks. I had to change it today (it originally had Falsetto, but I changed my mind about including her), and it might show. Also, this whole thing was supposed to be longer, and have more Jazz/Claves (maybe them meeting on a different night), but for the most part, I think it was important to end the story the way I did (delirious Jazz confronting and helping Claves is adorable right?). Especially since I realized there was more angst going on than I initially realized. Hope you still enjoyed it, though. And if so, please feel free to review! **

**Sorry for how much this probably sucks, and all the canon mistakes I undoubtedly made. Yeah…**

**-Shanna**

**P.S. I might do more for this fandom in the future. I need to get more involved in this beautiful game again.**


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